


Fallout

by apinknightmare



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Idiots in Love, Lies, canon compliant to 4x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apinknightmare/pseuds/apinknightmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver builds a mountain of lies to keep a secret. This is what happens when it comes crashing down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't spec fic, just a little something that's been rattling around in my brain after the latest episode. I *might* continue it. I have an idea for at least one more convo.
> 
> Thanks to MachaSWicket for being a sounding board, and to CarrieAnn for...everything (especially for keeping me from tossing this in the garbage). <3

Felicity sits on the couch in Oliver’s office, completely stunned. 

She had come in to install some upgrades on her computers in the lair, and ran into a harried Alex Davis right outside of the Queen for Mayor campaign headquarters. 

Photos are spread out across the coffee table in front of her, featuring a little boy who looks just like Oliver did when he was that age. Felicity is familiar with that crooked smile; she has a snapshot of Oliver that was taken when he was ten years old hanging on the fridge in the loft. One night when she and Thea both had little too much wine, Thea dragged out one of the Queen family photo albums. 

Felicity had asked if she could keep that one. 

This boy—William—has Oliver’s bright blue, expressive eyes. Felicity doesn’t need to see the results of a DNA test to know that he’s Oliver’s son. 

Oliver’s _son_.

She’s honestly surprised she never saw this coming. Oliver was an irresponsible hedonist before he stepped on the Gambit that fateful day; that he only has the one child should be what surprises Felicity the most. Once the shock wears off, she’ll probably realize that this day was always inevitable. 

She can’t think about that now, though, as she stares at the groups of photos, each set taken on a different date.

In Central City. 

One set of pictures has December 15th stamped in bright orange on the bottom righthand corner. Felicity closes her eyes, and thinks back to what happened that morning. She remembers she had a meeting with the CFO to discuss the barely rebounding stock prices, and was wearing her favorite purple dress. Oliver had complimented her on it when he showed up at her office with a hot cup of coffee, and a basket full of her favorite homemade scones. He told her he was going to be out late Christmas shopping, and that he’d left her dinner in the fridge. 

The pictures show that Oliver was actually at a park playing catch with William. Oliver smiles as he watches the boy run after a ball that grazed the tip of his glove, and is skittering across the grass. 

Early in the morning on January 11th, Felicity poured steaming hot coffee into a travel thermos. She handed it to Oliver after he gave her a soft kiss goodbye and headed out the door on his way to visit a friend for the day in Coast City. 

The pictures place him outside a quaint suburban house that day. William is wrapped in layers and tucked against Oliver’s side as they walk up the steps to the front porch, where a woman bundled up in a cozy looking sweater—Samantha—greets William with a wide smile and open arms. 

On the night of January 22nd—a rare night off—Oliver was draped across the couch with his head in Felicity’s lap as the two of them watched a movie. Felicity ran her fingertips across the stubble on Oliver’s jawline, down his neck, and laughed when she found a kernel of popcorn beneath his collar. 

“Looks like your aim’s getting a little rusty,” she teased. 

Oliver laughed. “I spent hours doing speech prep this afternoon, and took a snack break. Looks like I had a little left over.” 

The pictures confirm that wasn’t the only movie Oliver saw that day. She picks up a snapshot of Oliver and William standing together in front of a cineplex, the boy completely dwarfed by his father as he purchases their tickets. 

This morning, Oliver lingered as he spooned her body against his, sliding his hands over her skin, making her shiver as he pressed soft kisses along the back of her neck. He reluctantly slipped out of bed, telling her he had to spend all day in meetings with constituents, and that Alex would be with him. 

Alex, who is sitting right next to her, with his elbows resting on his knees and a worried crinkle between his brows. 

Short bolts of panic shoot through Felicity’s veins; she wants to get up and run out the side door, to bend over and rest her palms on her thighs, and learn how to breathe again. 

She can’t believe this is happening. 

Felicity tamps down the panic. She swallows and closes her eyes, puts her finger on her pulse and counts the steady beats until she calms down. She has to hang on just a little while longer, and then she can fall apart.

A long silence stretches across the room as Felicity’s eyes flit from photo after photo of the love of her life—the man she thought she knew better than anyone on this earth—spending time with a son she didn’t know he had, during trips to Central City that she never knew he took. 

Even through her heartbreak she sees that fatherhood looks as good on Oliver as she always imagined it would. The sight of Oliver with his son, the complete joy and happiness etched across his face—a face that has worn far too little of both things—well…it nearly leaves her breathless.

“Felicity?” Alex asks quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay?” 

She’s really not. Oliver having a son—god, she can’t wrap her brain around it yet, Oliver has _a_ _son_ —makes her feel nothing but happiness for him. It’s the stack of lies he’s built to keep that relationship from her that are making her nauseous. 

This was what he’d been struggling with when they want to Central City going on three months ago. 

_Three months._

When she and Oliver came home to their apartment in shambles, Felicity told Oliver she wanted to be a good teammate. She never considered that he wasn’t being one himself. 

Felicity knows Oliver is capable of telling lies and keeping secrets; she’s seen him do it countless times when he thinks he’s protecting the very small group of people he loves. What baffles her is that secrets and lies are the reasons that group of people has grown smaller over the years, and Felicity isn’t sure why Oliver feels like he needs to protect her from something like _this_. 

She focuses on taking long, deep breaths. She has to hang on just a little while longer…

“Felicity?” Alex’s voice is soft and full of pity, and for the first time in her life, Felicity hates the sound of her own name. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I was going to call Oliver, but I saw you, and it was urgent. I never considered that you didn’t know.” 

Felicity sniffles despite herself. “I’m glad I was here,” she replies, giving him a weak smile. She’s not sure when or _if_ Oliver would’ve told her if it had been up to him. 

“The person who took these, what did they want?” If they want to harm William or somehow use him against Oliver, then Felicity’s going to need to take care of that, and soon. She’ll need a clear head to do it.

“They wanted what they always want,” Alex replies, with the practiced ease of someone who has dealt with blackmail countless times before. “Money.” 

“This person came straight to you?” Felicity asks, confused. 

“No. I got to him before he got to Oliver. I have eyes and ears everywhere, it’s kind of a necessary part of the job. I got word that someone was tailing him and planning on releasing these if Oliver didn’t meet his demands.” 

“What was his name?” 

“Pete McLachlan.” 

“He was compiling quite the photo album,” she says, looking at the photos that span a whole three months. “I guess a random visit doesn’t mean much, and there probably wasn’t a paper trail to follow.” 

“No paper trail. I checked. And you know, repeated visits make the scandal an easier sell. No one’s going to buy a one-off visit as anything worth buying.” 

Felicity raises her brow. “You’ve seen these pictures. No one would need a full spread to be convinced that this is Oliver’s kid.” 

“I used a chunk of the discretionary fund to pay Pete off in exchange for these hard copies and a memory card.” He motions to an envelope on the table. “I had a lawyer draw up some papers to make sure that these never get out. He signed them. I don’t know if he’s dumb enough to test me, but I thought it’d be good to be aware in case we need to get ahead of anything.” 

After Felicity flexes her hacking muscles, there’s no way Mr. McLachlan will be dumb enough to release any of these pictures, or breathe a word about what they show. With shaking hands, she reaches for her tablet. There’s something else she needs to take care of first. 

She clicks on the program that she uses to keep track of media postings about Oliver, and adds two more names to her list for alerts: Samantha and William Clayton. After considering it for a second, she decides to add a third: William Queen. 

She stares at the name for what feels like an eternity.

“I’ll get an alert the second I get a hit on their names. I’ll make sure you get one too, so you can be prepared to do damage control.” 

“I appreciate that,” Alex replies, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Oliver probably never thought of this, but-”

“If it was easy for one person to tail him, it’ll be easy for others. I’ll talk to him about it.” 

“Okay. Good.” Alex looks around awkwardly. 

“Is it okay if I keep these?” Felicity asks, as she points at the photos. 

“Of course.” Alex of all people probably knows the value of having photographic evidence when you catch a politician in a lie. 

“Thanks,” Felicity replies as she stands and gathers the photos and memory card. “I’d appreciate it if you let me talk to Oliver about this before you do.” 

“Absolutely. _You’re_ my client.” 

Yeah, she thinks, sadly. She is. 

“I’ll have him call you later.”

“Okay. Do you need me to drive you home?” 

Felicity shakes her head. “No, I’ll be all right.” 

And she is, until she gets to the loft. 

She barely manages to close the door behind her before she starts crying.

 


	2. Chapter Two

 

Felicity sits at the dining room table in the loft she shares with Oliver, feeling antsy and heartsick. She got in a good cry while she was packing her suitcase, but her eyes still ache every time she blinks, and her skin is splotchy and red. Her head won’t stop pounding. 

She just wants Oliver to come home already, so she can get this over with. Her suitcase is in the trunk of her car, and her mother’s plane is landing in 45 minutes. 

Oliver sent Felicity a text to let her know that he’d be home at 8:30, and he opens the door right on time. It’s nice to know that he’s still capable of telling the truth about some things. 

Oliver walks through the door, wearing a suit. No wonder it took him a little longer to get home; surely he didn’t spend the day with his son wearing that. He’d had to stop and change to keep up appearances, and that makes fresh tears spring in Felicity’s eyes. She blinks them away, determined to get through this without crying. 

Oliver is holding a paper bag in his right hand. It’s Chinese from her favorite takeout place at the end of the block; she can smell the lo mein from here. 

Unfortunately for Felicity, Oliver must sense the kind of afternoon she had, because he rushes over to her, covering the distance between them in long strides. 

She puts her hand up to stop him. 

“Felicity?” Oliver’s voice wavers, and the sound of her name curves up at the end in the way it always does when he is desperately trying to restrain his panic. 

“I need you to stay over there.” It’s the first time she’s spoken since she asked her mother to come for a visit, and her voice is rough and broken. She’s afraid of what will happen if she lets Oliver get close to her, so she begs him, “Please stay over there.” 

He stops immediately, doing exactly as she asks, even though he is clearly clueless and incredibly anxious. 

“What’s going on? What-”

“I went to the lair this afternoon to upgrade some software on my computers, and I ran into Alex.” 

Oliver drops the bag, and the anxiety in his eyes is replaced by pure fear. 

“Felicity-”

“Don’t talk.” Felicity swallows against the painful lump in her throat. 

Oliver takes a step forward, but he doesn’t say a word. 

Felicity sniffles and wipes at her nose, putting all of her focus on Oliver’s ghostly white knuckles, from where he’s gripping the back of the chair so hard. 

“Alex got word that someone had been tailing you, and had been for a while, that there were some pictures he was going to use to extort you. Well, us, I mean, or…me, really, since…” Felicity pressed her lips together to stop herself from verbalizing that particular train of thought. “Alex was having a meltdown. I guess he’s never worked with a man who was hiding a child before, although that seems pretty unlikely, given how scummy politicians are.

“Turns out this was a new experience for the both of us, because as far as I knew, I had never dated a man who was hiding the fact that he had a child.” 

Felicity watches Oliver swallow, sees his Adam’s apple dip down to his collar, because she can’t bear to look in him the eyes. 

“The guy had pictures, though, so I knew it was true.” She slides the first set across the table. “These were taken on the day you told me you were out Christmas shopping.” 

“Felicity,” Oliver whispers. 

Felicity ignores him, and slides the next group over to him. “These were taken on the day you told me you were in Coast City.” 

“And these,” she says, pushing the next group of pictures forward. “I’m sure you know what you said you were doing when these were taken.” 

Felicity finally manages to look at his face, and he’s watching her intently with tears streaming down his cheeks, and his lips pressed together. 

“Someone was _following you,_ Oliver. And you never even noticed. Things are getting worse with Darhk; do you have any idea what you’ve opened William up to? What you’ve opened his mother up to?” 

The heartbreak on Oliver’s face melts into shock. Fear. Panic. Regret. 

“I hacked into his school’s mainframe, and made sure that you and I will get an alert if anyone shows up and checks him out of the office. And I’ve tapped into the closed-circuit cameras around the campus and hooked them up to facial recognition. We’ll know if Darhk shows up, but since we can’t see most of the ghosts’ faces, that line of defense will only go so far. I put William and Samantha’s names in my search program, so we’ll know if anyone releases any information about either of them to the press, and we’ll be able to get out in front of it,” Felicity explains in a rush. 

“Thank you,” Oliver says brokenly. 

“You went to such great lengths to keep him a secret; I want to make sure he stays that way for as long as you want. And I want him to be safe, too.” 

“I didn’t want to keep him a secret. Not from you.” Oliver’s eyes are red and guilt-ridden, and for the first time since Felicity has known him, she’s not moved by the sight. 

“Then why did you? Did you really think I would begrudge you a child who was born before we even met?” 

“No,” he replies quickly, finally releasing his death grip on the chair. He reaches across the table, palms up, but stops when Felicity pushes her chair backward.   
  
“She…Samantha, William’s mother, she told me she had a miscarriage.” Oliver shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, my mother _paid her_ to tell me she had a miscarriage, back before I got on the Gambit.” 

An ache builds in Felicity’s chest, because if there’s anything that could make these lies worse, it’s adding Moira Queen’s strange way of expressing her love for her children into the mix. 

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity sighs. Even as her heart breaks at that revelation, Felicity has to admit that the man has more in common with his mother than he could ever possibly imagine. 

“Samantha knew me when I wasn’t such a great guy, and…she didn’t want William to be around someone like that. The only way she’d agree to let me see him was if I promised to keep him a secret,” he explains. “She told me I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even William; he doesn’t know I’m his father.” 

“What?” Felicity says, a quick, hot anger rushing through her veins, replacing the ache for a few blissful seconds. “Oliver, she can’t do that.” 

Oliver sighs, and shrugs. “I was desperate, I…I didn’t want to take the chance, so I agreed to it. I begged her to let me tell you, but…” 

“So you decided to be honest with her, but lie to me?” 

Oliver’s brows knit together in confusion. “What? No. That’s not-”

“That’s exactly what you did, Oliver. Those conditions are completely unreasonable, but do you really think that if you had told me that, I wouldn’t have kept it a secret?”

“I…” Oliver presses his lips together.

“I would’ve disagreed with the premise of you agreeing to go along with such a ridiculous request, but…Oliver, I would’ve taken that secret to my grave. I would _never_ have done anything to jeopardize your relationship with your son.” 

“I know that,” he says emphatically, eyes wide. 

Felicity lets out a huff of air. “Clearly you don’t.” 

“It’s complicated-”

“The truth is easy, Oliver. It’s the lying that’s complicated. You should have learned that by now.” 

Felicity stands as her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out, and reads the text from her mother. 

_I’m here hon. Ready whenever u r._

“I have to go.” 

“What? Where? Where are you going?” Oliver asks nervously.

“My mother flew in; I need to pick her up from the airport,” Felicity says, patting her pockets to see if she left her keys in there. 

Oliver steps in front of her, holds his shaking hands out as if he wants to stop her. There’s pleading in his eyes. 

“Just…can we talk when you come back? I want to explain everything.” 

Felicity swallows, and looks down at her feet. “I’m not coming back, Oliver.” 

“What?” he replies, panic wrapping around the sound of the word. “No, please don’t go.” He takes her hands in his, and they’re still shaking. Maybe Felicity is, too. She can’t tell anymore. “Don’t leave, I-”

“I’m going to stay in one of the executive suites at Palmer Tech for a while,” she says, slipping her hands out of his. 

Oliver shakes his head. “No, I’ll sleep on the floor; wherever you want. It’s…it’s not save at Palmer Tech, not with Darhk and the ghosts…” 

“Digg’s over there now giving the place a once-over. He’ll make sure I’m safe.” 

Oliver’s breathing keeps hitching, his ragged breaths echoing between them. He runs his hand through his hair as he takes a nervous step forward. 

“I’ll go with you. I’ll stay in one of the other suites so I can be close in case something happens. I…I don’t want anything to happen to you, Felicity,” he says desperately. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that that fear started coming true three months ago, when he made the decision to lie to her. It got a little closer to reality with every other lie he told. 

“Oliver.” His name comes out a lot like a cry, even though she’s trying so hard to keep it together. “I can’t.” 

Felicity grabs her purse from the counter, and picks up the photo that she pulled off of the fridge earlier. She hands it to Oliver. 

“He’s a beautiful boy. He looks a lot like you did when you were his age. That scumbag managed to take some good pictures of the two of you. You should frame one with this.” 

Gently, Oliver takes the picture from her. 

“We’ll keep him safe,” she assures him. Heartbroken as she is, Felicity will do anything to make sure Oliver doesn’t lose another member of his family. She slings her bag over her shoulder. “I told Alex you’d call him. I think he has some campaign-”

“I don’t give a shit about the campaign,” Oliver replies brokenly. 

 “Call him, Oliver.” 

Felicity turns for the door, but Oliver catches her hand before she can walk away. 

“Is this it?” he asks quietly, squeezing her fingers. “Is it over?” 

She turns, and sighs at the anguish written all over his face. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I’m not ready,” he tells her. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I thought…I thought this was forever, you and me.” 

She can’t hold back her tears anymore. “I thought so, too. I also thought that you trusted me. And I thought I could trust you, but clearly I was wrong.” 

“You can trust me,” he says, now with so much more conviction than when he said it the first time, all those years ago. 

Felicity and Oliver have built so much between them since then, but tonight it feels like the foundation of their relationship is cracked and crumbling. 

“The next time you tell me you’re spending the day with Alex, how am I supposed to believe you? When you bring me coffee and scones at the office, will it be because you love me, or because you’re feeling guilty for something? Right now, Oliver…I wouldn’t be able to tell. That scares me, because I can usually read you so well, and…this completely blindsided me.” 

“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking as he takes a step closer to her. He leans down, and rests his forehead against hers. “I love you, Felicity… _please_.”

Felicity pushes up on her tiptoes, and presses her lips against his. Gently, just one last time, in case the things that are broken between them can’t be put back together again. 

Oliver grips her hips, still trembling as he hangs on for dear life, like he’ll drown if she leaves. She’ll drown if she stays, she knows it. 

Tonight, she’s going to save herself. 


End file.
